


distant toms a-drumming

by flootzavut



Series: liminal spaces [7]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous Relationship, Bathing/Washing, Blanket Permission, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia has lots of feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is not a reliable narrator, I'm just saying, Justice for buff Jaskier | Dandelion, Justice for fuzzy Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Podfic Available, Sharing Clothes, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, queer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22776613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/pseuds/flootzavut
Summary: "There's no way this should be the thing that undoes him."
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: liminal spaces [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610095
Comments: 45
Kudos: 552





	distant toms a-drumming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alleyesonthehindenburg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alleyesonthehindenburg/gifts).



* * *

_**distant**_ _**toms a-drumming**_

* * *

Geralt does his best not to look. It's ridiculous - foolish. He and Jaskier have shared beds and meals and baths, seen each other in all imaginable states of undress, he's even stumbled on Jaskier between someone's legs more than once, there's no way _this_ should be the thing that undoes him.

But it is.

It's Jaskier's fault, Jaskier with his enthusiasm-soaked clumsiness, Jaskier who won't _look where he's going_ and ended up slipping down a muddy bank and into a pond - barely even a pond, a _puddle_ , which a child of five could have avoided if they would _just pay attention_.

Jaskier who, lutenist to his bones, yelped and saved his instrument while the rest of him, clothes, hair, pack, was soaked to the skin in stagnant water.

Jaskier, who is somehow the most intelligent complete and _utter_ idiot that Geralt has ever met.

So, after a bath he wallowed in, and an absolute rejection of the idea he would wear any of his own clothes again before they've been thoroughly cleaned, here they are: Geralt ostensibly readying to retire, Jaskier sat scrubbing at his still-damp hair (which is in soft tufts as if he just woke up), bare-legged, and wearing Geralt's spare shirt.

 _Fuck_.

It would be better if it hung loosely on Jaskier's frame, if it were far too big for him, if it made him look skinny, frail, even pathetic. It's easy to forget, under the expensive clothing and fussy mannerisms, that Jaskier's almost as tall as he is, and after years trailing after Geralt, the puppy fat that once softened his edges is all but gone. He's not a boy, he's a man, and not a small one.

He doesn't fill the shirt out, he isn't a Witcher or even a warrior, but it doesn't drown him, either. His shoulders aren't quite as broad as Geralt's, and he hasn't done the buttons up; why would he, after all? He's hardly shy, he wanders around with his doublet open half the time. But the neckline hangs open, and Geralt can't look away from Jaskier's collarbone, can't stop himself from staring at the way the fabric drapes and gapes, exposing pale skin and dark hair, can't push down the sudden and inexplicably intense desire to touch.

If Jaskier's noticed he's staring, he's not giving any sign of it, chattering away as he so often does, shapely legs crossed at the ankles, Geralt's shirt barely long enough to keep him decent. Geralt's starting to wish he'd booked two rooms, although such a departure from their norm would probably have given him away. In his mind's eye, Geralt slips a hand under the shirt, over Jaskier's chest. Is the hair coarse, or soft like the mop on his head? Does it thicken over his belly, leading down between his legs? Geralt's never paid enough attention before to be sure.

Gods. It would be easier if Jaskier were _naked_. There's something about the image of him in Geralt's clothing that's hopelessly appealing, as if Geralt has... a claim on him. As if Jaskier's chosen to wear his colours.

Maybe that's all this is? It must be, it can't be - it can't be anything else, can't be more. Mustn't be. This is not what a Witcher is for.

Abruptly, he stands. Jaskier looks at him, a question in his eyes. "Roach," Geralt growls.

Jaskier frowns, and Geralt can't blame him; Roach is no doubt fine, it's a paper-thin excuse to leave the room, but it's all Geralt has to hand. They stare at each other for a moment, but Jaskier breaks first, shrugging a shoulder and shooting Geralt a wry grin. "Give her my love."

Geralt grunts, not trusting himself to speak. Once he's out of the room he can breathe again, think again. It's nothing. He'll sleep in the stable, and tomorrow Jaskier will dress himself in gaudy colours, and everything will be back to normal.

(Not even Geralt is convinced he's right. But it's the only choice he's got.)

_~ fin ~_

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from: [Not Yet/Love Run](https://youtu.be/aAtNigSEPms). Again. I have a problem. When's the new album coming out again??

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] distant toms a-drumming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23510506) by [Chantress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chantress/pseuds/Chantress)




End file.
